u/adolph_myer

You are constricted to the limits. To so many limits. It's binding so you throw it away for you, or for them or whom this may concern. You spilled too much into it each time, with no heavens counting. So it’s all burned now. So the way he did it is that he put it all somewhere, we know this, it's the way he was and you may have found it. But that's ok! We can only sort of know. Its nature would suggest. What he said is that it was all dispensed with before he went. All of it, yes. Yours as well, all of it. He never said you were there actually this is how it went if you'd let them tell you. Yes, so having it all in front of him he decided it was taking away rather than giving. That he was not free and so he disposed of it all in a grand gesture. So it has come to be that this is the last of it and we will look at it with beauty rather than looking for its beauty or thinking that it is beautiful because that is what he wanted. A melodramist through and through wouldn’t you say? If he’d truly meant to do away with it all of it would have been done away with yet, here it is in front of us. We should not speak of him so but those are the facts. Remember who he was. He wanted vision that he never had and this was his way about it. He thinks it will count more now. What a fool we loved. What a fool. How grand he must be to design it all. To think of it, what a marvel.

I walk with a cigarette in my left hand northwesterly on the right hand side of the boulevard towards the coffee shop on the right hand side, passing the graveyard on the right hand side in which the founder of that city, where once a Jackie desperately scooped the brains of her betrothed out of the backseat of an imperial coupe, rests. To the left hand side lay little homes, not tiny homes, little homes where ancient ones live and have lived—or rather love to discuss how long they have lived—for generations. The years have installed a bike lane and speed impeding objects (obstacles) that indicate family values and a prideful community or a community insistent on the validities of their prideful nature. The road winds towards the bars and the sex shops and where the difference between the two can only be understood via a brick wall as a physical barrier. I no longer look left. I no longer possess the acceptance or the freedom of choice. And, so when my puffs came to an end I neglected the bikelane. I have become a staunch polluter. It is my contention that the lower socioeconomic classes must pollute actively. For too long conglomerates have displaced their externalities on to the public. “Make sure you pick up after yourself.” Not my product, not my problem, so I will throw my cigarettes wherever I please. If there is a river nearby, all the better. I will throw my plastic into that river and know that I am doing the world a service. How can we expect to break the camels back without straw? I digress, I threw my cigarette towards the center of the boulevard. I flicked my cigarette towards the center of the boulevard. I know the trajectory, the trigonometry necessary to place my cigarette at the center of the road where it will wash into the sewer come the next rain. I watch its initial assent. It arks up for just a moment and explodes in the face of an oncoming cyclist. Like watching the Columbia space shuttle explode over the pacific my sadness did not come from the loss of life but from the loss of hope for that upward trajectory, for what that beautiful ark would have meant for humanity and for the mathematicians who saw their calculus combust in full view of the public. How embarrassing. I was astonished that my cigarette had not landed safely where I’d predicted and instead was impeded by this monstrous man’s aged face. Before I had the chance to reprimand this intruder, this scallywag who had disturbed my careful physics, he yelped like a squalid abused pup. One of those small dogs who only yell. His aging equilibrium and his diminished, failing motor functions ceased to manage the inputs to his senses. He jerked at the handlebars. Left and then right. I said “good lord sir, get a hold of your factualities.” But before he could take my well founded advice to heart he spilled over the crossbars and into the middle of the boulevard not far from where it was that my cigarette intended on making its soft landing. Unfortunately this bastard was wearing a helmet. If he had not been, then ‘that’ would certainly have been ‘that.’ The crunch and grind of reinforced plastics landing and then scrapping on concrete is a less pleasant sound than the soft caving of a skull. This man had now disturbed the birds chirping. As opposed to a trail of brains and blood and a limp senseless heap in the middle of the street, the community now had a fool to deal with. Passersby rushed in to play the hero, knowing full well that even if they did desire to provide assistance rather than merely display a desire to provide assistance, that they would be completely unable to do so. It would have been better if his brains had been splattered. Now he had the chance at a meager existence. It was obvious that he would never fully recover. He convulsed and displayed all the nature of brain trauma indicators. But alas they would keep him breathing. It would have been better if he had died with his last memory in flight. Finally he had flown. Much to my surprise, he roused himself and getting to his feet, he removed his crushed helm. Examining the dent in its side with stupefaction, his widened gaze turned to the left. Turned towards me. “Good for you mate. That’s the way. Rouse yourself from your stupor sir don’t let these lot humiliate you with their stairs. On with you and have a lovely day!” I proclaimed happily that this man no longer suffer in his embarrassment. “What the fuck is your problem?” He stammered. Taken slightly aback I managed to forgive him his insistence at my wrong doing.  “Well my only problem is that I am unsure of where my cigarette now lays, no worry though mate I’ll smoke another and flick another and all will be right with the world.” Satisfied I continued on my way. “Wait just a minute there I want to talk to you” he stammered. “Well I’m sure I’d enjoy that but then again perhaps not and frankly I haven’t the time. But you seem like a neighbor and so perhaps we will meet again. Have a good day sir.” And I turned to continue. “What are you talking about? You just flicked your cigarette into my face! I could have been killed.” His temper seems short. Laughing I say “Sir your implication is that I intended to hit your face with my cigarette? Well I would say that would be fancy work and I do fancy myself a decent calculator but that would be quite something I must say. Almost like hitting a bullet with a bullet if you will.” His face reddening “I… You're going to have to account for all this” with ridiculous notions. “What I must account for I believe I already have. Now… I must go on with my day and I am sure you have a plethora of silly adventures afoot as well and so…” 
“Now listen to me asshole..” as he approached I stood my ground confused as to why this had come so far. “Step no further sir I’d rather you not approach you seem upset.”
“Of course I am upset you fucking deuschbag what the fuck is your problem you can’t just go around flicking cigarettes willy nilly like that.”
”well of course I can there usually isn’t a face in the way of me doing so and really that’s your fault”
”how the fuck is this my fault” Directly in my face now.
“Fine it's not your fault and if it were, I would forgive you, in fact you have already been forgiven so lets just move on with our endeavors yes?” I was growing tired of this line of living and I really just wanted to move on but the man would not let go. It would have been better if he hadn't been wearing a helmet.
I said “are you traumatized or are you having neurological issues? Can you see me? Are there two of me? You seem highly distressed given the circumstances.”
”yeeess I can see y… Under the… Fuck you man”
”no that’s ok” I wonder now if it were a genuine request, at times people settle their arguments through sexual intercourse after all.